


Derek Hale Is Aware of What Emotions Are

by JamesAlexander



Series: Chronicles of The Beacon Hills Werewolf Pack [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M, constipated Derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-16
Updated: 2012-12-16
Packaged: 2017-11-21 05:53:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/594198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JamesAlexander/pseuds/JamesAlexander
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He is. Stiles knows he is. Because Stiles is observant, you know? Usually there is a frown on his face, when there is no poker face. Anger is one of the easiest emotions for Derek to express. And thus, he seems to be angry all the time. Now and then there is a smile when he thinks no one is looking. But, truth be told? Stiles is always looking. Not in the same way as Derek always stalks his pack, no, not at all. He just doesn’t want to miss any of the moments when Derek expresses more than he actually wants to. Stiles can remember a couple of different expressions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Derek Hale Is Aware of What Emotions Are

**Author's Note:**

> So, this happened a long time ago, after a tumblr gifset of Derek and all his facial expressions, and that to which one of the comments was the title, and it escalated from something that was supposed to be a collection of small flashback-like loose paragraphs, but eventually turned out to be a small fic. Meh, hope you enjoy it.

He is. Stiles knows he is. Because Stiles is observant, you know? Usually there is a frown on his face, when there is no poker face. Anger is one of the easiest emotions for Derek to express. And thus, he seems to be angry all the time. Now and then there is a smile when he thinks no one is looking. But, truth be told? Stiles is always looking. Not in the same way as Derek always stalks his pack, no, not at all. He just doesn’t want to miss any of the moments when Derek expresses more than he actually wants to. Stiles can remember a couple of different expressions.

 

Anger, usually when he stands next to Scott. There was this time, when Derek pinned him against a wall, moments after he almost told his father Derek was in his room. And Derek was, at the time, a person of interest. Because of Scott and Stiles. No wonder Derek looked always so mad when he was around them.

Derek had also shown weakness. When he was shot by Kate Argent with a Wolfesbane bullet. Derek had let Stiles see him in that moment, he even looked for him. And even though Stiles could drag his little werewolf ass out into the middle of the road and leave him for dead, Derek trusted him enough to be in such position – of course the alpha denies this, but deep down, he had to trust Stiles to let him be near him in such a weak state, or else the guy has gone completely nuts, which is not surprising at all, judging by the family history of creepiness and total psychotic madness (and Stiles really doesn’t want to point fingers, mainly because he doesn’t need to. Everyone knows he’s talking about Peter, Derek’s uncle). He had also shown a face of plead, when he was hoping Scott could retrieve the bullet.

There was also confusion. That one time, when Derek was supposed to help Stiles get in the police station by creating a diversion. Stiles had asked him what would he tell the receptionist, and there it was, the confused face. Of course that moment had to end with a shallow threat from Derek, telling Stiles that he was eager to punch the teenager in the face.

There was the cynical and ironic smile he gave Stiles, when he let a recently-turned Erica into his car, just seconds before he drove away.

There was pride in his expression when he told Stiles for the second time he was the Alpha.

And pain when he told it for the first time, just after killing Peter. Sure, peter might have been a little nut-job, but he was the last of Derek’s blood family. It was a pained look, of course. He had to do it, but Stiles can’t even begin to imagine how hard it must have been… And of course it was a relief when Uncle McNut-jobbypants came back to life by doing what he does best: driving people insane. And by people Stiles means poor and innocent Lydia. No wonder Derek accepted Peter with open arms. It was the promise of a second chance, knowing his uncle didn’t hold a grunge. But Peter always had his own agenda. Though Stiles has to admit that lately? Lately Peter had been of great help. Surprisingly enough, he had become Stiles’s best ally on his quest to make Derek show off his awareness of what emotion feel like, so the others stop calling him ‘the Arch-Alpha of the hyper emotionally constipated werewolves’. It’s one hell of a long title. But unfortunately it suits Derek most of the time.

It all happens in October, during the Hunter’s Moon, the month’s only full moon. Stiles is sitting at the kitchen table, at the renewed Hale house, scribbling down what things might bring a smile out of Derek, when Peter talks from behind him. Yes… Peter is still a little rough on the edges, and still makes Stiles squeal in a way that’s so not unmanly. Seriously, it’s manly ok?! A little at least… OK, it’s childish, not girlish at all… So totally not the point. Peter is creepy, period.

“What’re you doing?” he asks casually.

And not that whenever Peter asks something casually, means his wolf his jump up and down inside him, rolling on the floor even, so full of eagerness to know everything it can’t control itself. And now the picture of a goofily smiling peter rolling on the floor is burned on Stiles mind and he giggles.

“Nothing.” He replies, when he finally gets a hold of himself.

“You do remember I can tell when you’re lying, don’t you?” Peter asks, the ever-present mockery of his voice making Stiles shiver.

“Then let me reformulate my response, kind sir, I am doing nothing of your concern. Does that make it better?”

“No. You’re still lying.”

“Am not!”

Peter rolls his eyes over the childish tone.

“I saw you writing by nephew’s name. Therefore it concerns me.” Peter states, sitting next to Stiles and snatching the notebook.

“Oh, no suddenly he is your nephew? Was Laura your niece also when you tried to kill her. Or was Derek you nephew, when you tried to kill him too, as a matter of fact?” Stiles grunts and crosses his arms against his chest. He is resigning to his condition of weak human that could never take that notebook from the grasp of a much stronger werewolf like Peter.

“Ouch.” Peter says, faking pain. “You know I wasn’t in my right state of mind when I killed Laura, or when I tried to kill Derek. Don’t forget you were the one who damned him to be a person of interest, Stiles. You’re not exactly Derek’s guardian angel…”

“Two things, sir! One: you say you weren’t in your right state of mind when you killed Laura and almost killed Derek like there was even a time when your mind was in the right place after the fire. Second: I’ve saved your nephew exactly thirteen times over the two and a half years that I’ve met him. I’ve held him at eight feet of water for two hours; I almost chopped off his arm, I carried him out of a Vampires’ nest; I helped my father find out that Derek was not guilty of murder; even though he really was guilty of murdering you; but I am so not gonna judge him for that, Peter, seriously; I jumped in front of him to take a Wolfesbane bullet for him; I pulled him out of the way of a spell cast by a Witch; I made a deal with a bunch of fairies so they wouldn’t turn him permanently into a wolf; I-“

“You just don’t stop talking ever, do you?” Peter asks, dragging his words, trying to stop Stiles’s babbling. The kid was talking so fast it was a miracle even Peter understood half of it. “I see what you’re trying to do. I can help you.”

“Yes, you can, because you would never feel tempted to give me a tip in the wrong direction and make Derek want to maim me in such a way I won’t ever be able to eat unless I am fed through a straw.”

“Maybe just a little…”

“Oh. My. God! You even have the guts to admit it!” Stiles whines, snatching the notebook out of the werewolf’s hand. “You shouldn’t exist, but I guess even death is afraid of you, don’t you think? I mean, first the fire, then the whole coming back from the dead mumbo jumbo… That’s it, isn’t it? Your secret is that you are trying to attain immortality!”

Peter rolls his eyes once more, in an amused expression, and shrugs.

“I’m serious about helping you. Let’s put things in my perspective, shall we?”

“I don’t like the turn you’re giving this, but go on…” stiles says, his eyes lurcking over the suspicious man.

“I know what makes Derek happy. But if I did those things for him, he wouldn’t buy it, he would think it was only me trying to win him over, you know?”

“Completely understandable. But where do I come in?”

“Well, you can give him those things, without the risk of him thinking you have obscure intentions. He would feel happier, therefore, he would trust me more easily, thus granting me a peaceful place among the pack.”

Stiles is pensive for a moment before replying.

“Let’s say I go on with your plan. Wouldn’t it make me the one with the obscure intentions?”

“No, Stiles, it’s just a matter of doing both useful and pleasant at the same time. Do you get what I mean? It’s a win, win, win. I win Derek’s trust, you win whatever goal your trying to achieve, and Derek wins his happiness back. What harm could it make?”

“Oh, uh, I don’t know, Peter, maybe you are hiding something?” Stiles shrugs. But he ends up accepting his help. “With one condition! If things go out of hand… You made me do this, understood?”

“Ok. Though things won’t get out of hand. Whatever that means… Try to start by baking him scones. They were his favorite back in the time.”

Scones. How the hell was Stiles supposed to bake scones? Not that he didn’t cook. He did. Sometimes. Well, he couldn’t always eat take-out, or his father’s diet wouldn’t make any sense. Sometimes he had to cook. It shouldn’t be too hard. And Stile is sure one of his mother’s cook books has the recipe.

-

Three days later, and Stiles is handing Derek a box full of scones. Derek and he are the only ones at the house. The Alpha looks at the box with suspicion.

“What is it?” He grunts.

“Scones.” Stiles stutters. “It’s the first time I made them, and I thought ‘who better to try them than Derek?’…”

“Maybe Scott.” Derek shrugs, placing the box (with more care than necessary, really) on the kitchen table.

“He would tell me they are good even if they tasted like cat food. You, on the other hand, have no problems in judging people.” Stiles babbles.

“Thanks?” Derek says, unsure if that’s a good thing or a bad. Stiles isn’t sure too, so he goes with the uncompromising ‘it depends on the situation, and in this one is a good thing’. So he opens the box and takes one, biting down on it.

“It tastes good. But I never had Scones before, so I don’t know if they taste how they are supposed to taste. See, I’m not trying to poison you, Derek” Stiles jokes.

“I know…” And he takes a scone.

He is going upstairs, and Stiles calls him.

“I need you to eat it in front of me and give me your opinion, or else, how will I know if you are lying in case you tell me they taste good but you only threw yours over the window instead of actually trying it?!” Stiles inquires, impatiently tapping his foot.

Derek rolls his eyes and takes half of the scone into his mouth in a single bite. His eyes close and there is a small sigh coming out through his nose. A little hum comes out from the bottom of his throat. His eyebrows lift in unison, making his forehead seem a little shorter. And there is the expression of pleasure. For a moment Stiles thinks about other things that could make Derek make that face, but he tries to force himself to believe that is his face for ‘this tastes good’, which doesn’t do much about the sexy time images he has on his mind, with Derek taking half of his cock in his mouth instead of a sc- Oh my God, brain, stop! You can’t just gain a will of your own a fill Stiles’s mind with such sinful pictures!

“They’re really good…” Derek whispers, already grabbing for a second.

“Thanks.” Stiles chirps, his voice higher than usual due to his inner monologue.

“Are you… Are you ok?” Derek asks, lifting an eyebrow. And that’s the second expression beyond anger that he has shown Stiles today!

“Yes. Perfectly fine.” Stiles grins.

He is sure Derek reads through his lie, but the Alpha is too focused on the scones to even tell him. It’s not that Stiles has fallen in love with Derek, but the guy is a bomb of hotness in two legs. Ok, maybe Stiles has a little crush on Derek, and that’s one of the reasons he wants the Alpha do feel other things besides anger and pain.

-

Two weeks later, he sees nostalgia on Derek’s face. As usual they are alone. Stiles knows those are the only moments when Derek lets his feelings surface. The TV is on, Derek is sitting on his favorite armchair and Stiles is sprawled on the couch. His eyes restlessly turn to the bookcase. On the upper shelf, a large slightly seared book sits alone. Peter had told Stiles the night before that that was the family album. Without a word, Stiles gets up, and grabs the book, under the observant eyes of Derek.

“What are you doing?” Derek hisses, when Stiles opens the book, as he sits down on the couch.

“What do you think? I’m going through your family photos.” Stiles shrugs.

He knows he will only see people with closed eyes. Werewolves would have their eyes so bright in photos almost all of their face would be covered by a white stain. But there were some that had their eyes open. They were human. After some pages, Stiles looks up, and Derek is standing in front of him, eyes focused on the book.

“You should tell me who is who, you know?” Stiles asks gently.

Derek sits down next to Stiles, and sighs with resignation. The teenager’s heart is doing the victory dance right now, and Stiles grins. Derek starts to point out his grand-parents, his uncles. Peter is in one of the photos with Viviane, his wife, and Clara, his one year-old daughter. Stiles finds it hard to believe Peter had been a loving father and husband before. But losing both the woman you loved, and your daughter, no wonder Peter was like that.

“It wasn’t just the woman he loved…” Derek announces slowly, when Stiles gives voice to those thoughts. “Sometimes wolves have the luck of finding their mates. It’s a feeling stronger than any love a human can feel for another human. It’s not like the stories… We can move on if we lose them, we can chose not to claim them. But once we claim our mate… It’s for life. The experience of losing the mate you claimed is traumatizing at the least.”

Stiles nods in understanding.

“I… I get it why you agreed to have Peter in the pack…”

“He’s been telling you things about me, isn’t he?” Derek asks, his eyes looking at Stiles, neither angry nor happy just… neutral.

“He has.”

“Why are you doing these things, Stiles?” Derek asks. “You don’t have to fight for my trust. I started trusting you after the fifth time you put your life on the line to save mine…”

“It’s not that, Derek, it’s just that the pack needs you to be healthy both physically and mentally. And I know you are aware of what emotions are, though you seem like the Arch-Alpha of the hyper emotionally constipated werewolves. That’s what they call you, you know? But only behind your back, of course, because they are more scared of you than anything. There are two ways of gaining respect. One, you frighten them until they respect you, or two, you treat them so nicely they end up respecting you. You respected your parents, and I don’t believe they were so broody all the time.”

“Yeah…” Derek sighs.

“I’ve seen many of your emotions, Derek, but I’ve never seen you truly smiling of happiness.” Stiles says.

“Well, if I’m not happy…”

“Why? You have a pack, a job, a house, friends.” Stiles says, lifting his fingers in the air with each word.

“My family is dead, Stiles.” Derek growls.

“So is most of mine.” Stiles replies. “I’m not saying you have to forget. Or that you have to move on, that’s just crap. People say that because they hope it will hurt less. It doesn’t Derek. I know it, you know it. But it does get more bearable. It’s not that the pain lessens, we just get tougher. But Derek, they need you to be kind to them, to be the father they never had, they wish they had, that’s why you turned Erica, Boyd, Isaac and Jackson, right? They need a family, they need you to be what they could only wish for. And you are failing utterly at it! I am sorry, but you are! And it pains me, because I know you better than that, I know you worry about them. You just don’t like to show it. And I know that you feel like if you don’t love them like a family, you won’t miss them, or they won’t miss you, if something happens. But everyone dies eventually, that shouldn’t be an excuse not to love and show it.”

There is a moment of silence. Stiles knows Derek is battling hard inside. And that wasn’t the best choice of words, because now Stiles is picturing Derek fully hard, throbbing his cock inside of him, and oh my God, brain stop it!

“you’re right… But… I need your help, Stiles.” Derek says.

“Ok, but why me?” Stiles stutters.

And Derek leans towards him. A pair of wet lips is now pressing onto his own. Stiles sighs and moans, his hands fly to Derek’s neck, pulling him closer. The book falls to the ground when Stiles hoists his legs, shuffling under Derek, so he is lying on top of the teenager. Derek’s tongue licks Stiles’s lips, begging them to open for it, and they do. Soon, their tongues caress each other, and Derek lets out a moan, the sound of pleasure he had made while eating those scones. Stiles has to stop kissing him, or else he will pass out, because he isn’t breathing properly.

“Dear god…” Stiles whispers. “What took you so long to tell me you wanted to do this to me?”

“It isn’t the only thing I want to do to you…” Derek reveals. And there is a small grin forming on his lips. He bites gently down on Stiles’s neck, not enough to pierce the skin, but enough to leave a mark on its surface. Stiles moans, and Derek whispers at his ear. “I want to fuck you. I want to claim you as mine forever. I want to feel you inside me. I want to taste you.”

“Oh God, please do! Take me to you room and let’s get this party going!” Stiles begs, and Derek laughs.

And it’s the most amazing sound he has ever heard. And then he is being lifted from the couch, and carried to Derek’s room.

-

Stiles lifts his body and turns his head, snapping his neck.

“Ugh, you know I hate it when you do that…” Derek growls, his face buried in the pillow. “It sounds like someone his breaking your neck.”

“Sorry.” Stiles says, not even sorry. Not even a little bit. He likes to pick on Derek.

He gets out of their bed, and it’s still something that sounds weird but at the same time right. Their bed. He knows now how he belongs to the pack. His the Alpha’s mate, side by side with him in the pack’s hierarchy. He stretches his body gleefully, and caresses one of his many scares he got over the twenty years he has been with the wolves. The pack is bigger now, but none of the new wolves have been bitten, they were all born into the pack. Allison and Scott were the first to have kids, though they were the only couple who had unplanned kids. Allison and Scott were young and reckless. And Chris almost killed them, if it weren’t for Stiles and Derek’s intervention. He still remembers the day like it was yesterday. But that is a story for another time, don’t you think?

“Babe, why don’t you come to bed for a little more…?” Derek asks, a suggestive grin inviting him to the bed.

And that’s right. Now everyone knew the secret Stiles knew back then when he was trying to woo Derek Hale. Derek Hale is indeed aware of what emotions are, and now he shows it to everyone. In the way he takes care of the cubs, that call him grandpa Derek, though he only has forty three. Well, Stiles is only thirty six and is also known as Papa Stiles.

“I will… But you know what today is, don’t you?” he inquires, expectantly.

Derek nods, offering his hand, and Stiles drops on the bed, his lips caressing Derek’s.

“It’s your birthday.” Derek states, his mouth still close to Stiles’s.

“Yes. And you promised me something when I turned eighteen. And you didn’t give it to me because we were being attacked by another pack. And something similar happened when I turned twenty one. And then thirty. And then last year…” Stiles starts, and Derek stiffens.

“Stop that train of conversation, please. A minimum of five years between each argument, remember?”

“Derek.” Stiles says, pulling his face away from Derek’s. “I mean it. I want the bite. I almost died when the last Alpha got to me.” He points at the big long three parallel claw marks that go across his chest. “And I don’t want to feel like that again, sugar. I don’t want to see such pain in your face ever again. I know, I get it that, if I die because of the bite, you’ll blame yourself for it. But I’m sure it will work. I am too breakable to live past my forties if I’m human. Besides…” And Stiles uses a completely new argument. “If I was a wolf, you could fuck me like crazy, without having to be careful about control, just you and me, not even that worry crossing your mind… I’ve been waiting for that for twenty years, Derek, and I want it now…”

Derek sighs. He kisses Stiles, and he loses track of what he was telling him. Seconds later, Derek is on top of him, his cock easily opening its way inside of Stiles, hitting his prostate and sending wave after wave of intense pleasure through his spine. Stiles has is eyes closed, as Derek starts to kiss his neck, and then his chest, his belly and then… Stiles screams in surprise and pain, when he feels teeth digging his flesh. The blood stains the sheets, and Stiles looks at Derek. He pulls his head away from Stiles’s body, and kisses him. A tear falls down from the Alpha’s face, and hits the younger man’s lips, his salty taste mixing with the metallic taste of his own blood. Derek doesn’t stop thrusting his hips back and forth, and the pain is easily numbed by the pleasure, as Stiles moans into Derek’s lips. The door to the room opens, and Scott and Isaac burt in.

“What did you do?!” Scott roars.

“Get the fuck out, I’m having sex with my husband, you moron!” Stiles shouts to him, pointing his finger out, and the Betas’ faces twist in shame and disgust, and run out of the room, shutting the door behind them.

When Derek finally comes, Stiles does the same at the same time. Derek howls, and Stiles moans, almost screams. He is starting to feel something changing inside him, and he smiles.

“I’m sorry I didn’t warn you, and that I hurt and…” Derek starts, his face buried on the curve of Stiles’s shoulder.

And there is the pained emotion, the shame, the regret.

“I love you.” Stiles says. And his lips are captured for a tender kiss.

“I love you too…” Derek replies, a smile starting to appear on his face.


End file.
